A Tale Of Nature and a Story of Nuture
by TheRemainsofTheDay
Summary: "You have to agree before I break you. And than you have to consent again before I reinforce it." Charles loves a good dare. And he has to agree to some degree, maybe he is way too polite. Slash Erik/Charles. Unrelated stories relating.
1. Please

**Really edited. Almost entirely a different animal. Decided to make it into a vignette sort of story. Little things that sort of all go together. Go ahead and read. And hopefully review.**

Please

The word is said a lot. Probably not too much. Considering there really is no limit on being polite, he can get away with the overwhelming pleasantries. Nobody really monitors these things anyway, right?

Charles says please too much.

He has passed the line. And somebody does monitor, or at least keeps a rough tally. If he says it one more time, there's a risk for a please induced seizure. Or at least a good throttling.

"Why you always begging for things?" Begging is a dirty word.

"It's not the same thing, Erik."

Please, pass the butter. Please, just do your homework. Please, can you send me your notes. Please, can I have my book back by the end of the day. Please, Raven your shirt is a little too short. Please, don't take this the wrong way. Please, don't use that tone. Please, don't think of me that way. For god sake, please-

It's not even a word anymore. Just an OCd fueled reaction, and ornamental phrase added for some prismatic color.

"You're a beggar. Just as bad as asking for handouts. You plead like a dog."

"I was just asking for you to pass the kettle. Erik, pl-"

Erik moves the kettle far away from Charles, a loud screeching noise vibrating though the air, petered iron against expensive marble. A silence soon follows. Eyebrows cock. "Don't say it."

It was a command.

But his mouth starts to move anyway, "Erik, this is ridiculous. If you'd pl-"

"Don't you say it."

"There must be some miscommunication. Just let me explain, pl-"

"Don't you dare."

It was actually a dare, not a command.

"What if I do?"

Just a look. Deep-set eyes and a dramatic frown never looked quite so attractive to Charles, generally going for lighter features that generally appeared on women.

It was exciting. "I think I might."

"No, you won't. It's not in your nature." Eric pours himself all the hot water that had been waiting in the kettle for another. Brown wisps escaped from the wired tea at the bottom, swirling in a maroon pattern. "You will do as your told. It's easier."

"That's positively insulting. I think you are trying much to hard to pin me down. That's my job."

"Apparently not hard enough." Spoons, sugar, and milk are unneeded. He just likes that organic, dirty, plant taste. "You just think you're the only one who can read others. I think thats positively insulting to the rest of us."

"Are you angry with me?"

Charles looks disheveled. Hair out of place, shirt wrinkled, and shoes untied. If it wasn't so alarming, Erik might be turned on. "No."

"Is there something on your mind?"

Scrunching his brow, he feigns a thinking pose itching his chin. "Nothing particularly relevant."

"Well, keep on being difficult. See how it works out for you. And there's nothing wrong with being polite. It's not weakness, or submission."

"Say whatever you wish, for you it's a game. Considering you're the only man in the world who really doesn't have to beg, you could of stopped me at anytime." Erik finishes his tea, and places the cup gently into the sink. "But you don't. Your politeness is condescending. People should just be happy that you were courteous enough to ask, instead of force. Stop with the begging, and pleading."

"I don't know if you're complimenting or insulting me."

Erik grinned. "You haven't left."

"I'm betting on the compliment." Charles sighed, and refilled the kettle. "Some sort of reverse psychology infused compliment but hey, beggars can't be choosers. I didn't know that was popular in Germany, or Poland, or Sweden ,or any other country you've taken your commando nazi killing mission."

"Of course you'd take the positive answer."

"It's in my nature, heh?"

Erik brushed his hair back, and leaned against the counter. Watching the other man was a sport. "Born with you."

"Have you ever thought being raised a gentlemen is the reason I enjoy the P word?" He lights the burners, and places the kettle down. It was his favorite kettle as a child. Not because he some weird british kid with a thing for teapots, but because it looked cheap. So out of place in the estate. _Don't take the cheap shot. Don't say what we both know you're thinking._

_ That's more like it, Charles. Demand. _Erik smirked. "Let's try a crack at this nature versus nurture debate."

"What? Are you going to nurture the politeness out of me." The water bubbling makes a pleasant background noise.

"More like break you of the politeness."

"I'm more of a positive reinforcement sort of guy."

Erik chuckles deeply, and in a strange forced tone, playfully. Taken back, Charles feels like one of the rabbits from the cartoon version of Watership Down, completely

frightened at something that he'll never truly understand. "Oh, that will come later."

"Is that a promise?"

"No, more like a dare."

Charles asks, "how so?"

"You have to agree before I break you. And than you have to consent again before I reinforce it." The telepaths mouth felt try, and the water was taking way to long to boil.

"This seems a bit wonky. Why should I agree?"

"You like dares."

Yes, Charles likes dares.

* * *

><p>"Mommy, please."<p>

Charles remembers the feeling of those words on his lips almost as clearly as the smell of gin on the breath. He doesn't think its particularly sad either. She was happy, his mother. Deluded maybe, and always slightly inebriated, but happy.

And he also always remembers that she hated when he called her at night. Not because he was interrupting on of her parties, or that she would have to hear some tell about voices in his head. No, it was because she really felt sorry for the boy who could never fall asleep.

Her hand was always soft when she patted his cheek, and besides the way she would stagger, nothing seemed quite off with the picture. Cooing, she would play her fingers through his hair away from his face and say, "My poor baby, why don't you try to close your eyes again. I'm sure you'll be out like a light."

Charles would protest. But his mother was quite certain soon he'd be off counting sheep again. "No, I mean it Charlie. You need your rest. Schools tomorrow, and you have to do good to get into university."

And even than he knew, from the minds of adults around him, that he didn't need to do good, or even well, to get into any school in the country. They had money. He feigned sleep though, know how important it was to his mother. "Please, just go to sleep baby. Please, just close your eyes. You'll be there soon."

* * *

><p>This one has to be neutral. Everybody appreciates being useful, and than appreciated in return. Americans have holiday based on the concept of being in a state of thankfulness for an entire day. It's a damn good holiday he must add, he loves that stuffing and ecpescially cranberry sauce. And together, man that stuff is groovy.<p>

So, considering that everyone likes stuffing and cranberry sauce and maybe even stuffy family event, Charles replies with a strong and strangely defiant, "Thank you."

Dinner is interrupted. Heads turn. The kids at the mansion are use to Charles' chivalry, but not that strange loud booming voice that came from those red, red lips. The only one who doesn't look is Erik. A repeat. "Thank you, Erik, for passing the peas."

It's awkward. Raven makes it more awkward. "I just bought three ounces of weed."

"That's nice." Charles take a large spoonful of peas and dumps them on his plate. "Thanks again, for the peas, Erik. Now can you please pass the butter."

The butter is thrown across the table.

"I had a wonderful day Charles. There was group sex with the boys, followed by a shopping spree in the Bronx where a bought a lovely used car with only one blood stand, and two semen stains." No response, so Raven clears her throat. "And did a sheet of acid."

"Admirable, my dear girl, admirable." Not all the peas make it to his mouth. "Erik, are you, perhaps, the devil?"

Sean snorted. So did Alex. Hank never looked up from his book. This was turning out to be the best forced dinner at the Xavier household.

"Not to my knowledge." Erik plate was clear, but Charles had voiced clear opposition to people leaving the table before everyone was ready. Went against some strange code of properity that lingered on from the fifties. And the kids were watching. Can't go against a man's wishes when his kids are watching, and even his respects that. Doesn't mean he'll ask to be excused. Waiting seems like a better option. "Why?"

"Curiosity. Maybe just for the shock value. The reaction. Or maybe, in fact, I really do believe that you have a tail hidden in those jeans of yours."

"God, stop it, or I'm going to vomit. If I wanted to see to homos flirt I'd be listening to Simone and Garfunkel." Alex stood up, gripping his plates in both hand. "Oh, and can I be excused?"

"Of course." Charles said nonchalantly. "Why you're up could you do the dishes. The maid took the night off. Apparently cleaning up for my summer classes for isn't her cup of tea. 'A pack of wild animals' she says, 'especially the blue, hairy one, never washes after himself like a beast.'"

"Sounds like a insightful woman." Erik says, still refusing to excuse himself.

"Why, thank you, Erik. I only hire the best help." He helped himself to some more peas. "Oh, and you can be excused as well Hank. And Raven."

If Charles hadn't been across the table, Erik is sure he would of physically assaulted him. Or pulled that polo over his smug face, and proceed to strip himself. Either, or. "Charles, after dinner you really need to meet-"

"You know, Professor, if you keep eating all those peas your pee is going to be green." Sean said from the other side of the table.

"Haven't you've been excused." Erik almost barks.

Sean laughs, "No, unlike the others, I think family dinners are pretty rad."

**End**

**Review. **


	2. Sorry

**Yeah so if you read the first chapter before the drastic style change. Sorry. It's most of a vignette sort of thing. Where all the of it sort of make sense in a overall sense. So please review. It keeps me motivated, cause I'm super vain. **

Sorry

The thing with sorry is that nobody really wants to say it, especially when it matters. When there is something to be actually sorry about.

Raven has never been good at the whole sincerity business. Comes with being someone who can change there shape at will, much less their facial expressions. The only sorry that she will ever commit to that holds any weight at all, will be to her psudeo-brother who has been shot in at some beach under some blue skies in a far of dream of cuba. All her real sorrys will be for Charles in the end.

Sean has never really been sorry ever. That's because he's never done anything that needed an apology. Never hurt anyone, past the occasion playful insult thats gone to far or the broken dish. Opps. Sorry. Right.

Alex is sorry for a lot of things, but will never say it. Hank is sorry for just one, and he'll never have the chance to say it. Angel would be sorry about Darwin, if anybody told her about it.

Sorry is a hard one.

* * *

><p>"<em>Sorry.<em>" He stopped and marveled over how bad his handwriting really was. Than he changed it to "_I'm sorry._" Much more personal. Charles would appreciate it. Hopefully, he wouldn't assume that Erik had gotten into one of those self-help books he's always soliciting to him.

Now if he only knew what exactly he was sorry for.

Was he sorry that he had assaulted an advance that he consented to? Was he sorry that Charles now sported his first adult shiner? Was he sorry that he felt sorry for feeling this way? He was an adult after all. Adults shouldn't have crushes on other adult males. That's what grammar school was for. Erik had a sinking suspicion he was sorry for something far more complicated than he was use to dealing with.

"_Greetings and salutations, My dear Charles._"

"A solid first line." Erik almost jumped out of his turtleneck when Charles breath hit the back of his ear. "When my students send me letters begging for extensions, they usually begin quite similarly. Do go on with it."

The letter met the trash can. "The point of writing it is now void."

"Aw, I was curious. And don't be offended, they are Oxford students. It's probably even a compliment." Charles sat down in the extra chair in the small study that they had set up in the corner of Erik's room. His black eye looks worse today. Like a handful of red and black berries were smashed on the side. Yellow tinged the skin around the hit. It was a hard punch. "So why are you sending me greetings and salutations?"

"Why do your students call you dear?"

"My superior intellect, my dashing good looks, the misconception that I have the psychie of a sixteen year old girls, the overwhelming need to take care of me, and I really want to know what you are writing."

Being the brash and bold man that Erik believes, and sometimes suspects he is not, he comes out with it. "It was going to be a really nice letter. I was going to apologize for the eye. With sincerity. And than order you to, well, to do some kinky things. Maybe even be a little graphic. I thought you would appreciate it."

"You just really know how to romance me." But Charles makes no move to start anything. Erik feels his breath hitch, and it's the punch, and it's his fault that they'll never get past first base, as Sean puts it. "Oh, I'm sorry." And there was weight there. Like usual. "I just can't help but be a little cautious. First black eye since I was ten."

It's not much comfort. But the soft touch that runs across his cheek is enough to let the moment breath.

Sorry.

Charles doesn't say it. He wants to. But it would ruin it. From everything he knows about Erik, if he tells him not to worry, that he knows that he hasn't done this before, that he's deeply sorry for tearing his world apart, steering him off course, to the land of homosexual intercourse, to a country where he could possibly find happiness, to a world with the prospect of peace, it will be over just like that.

So he lets Erik take of his pants, and in hitches and in half gasps almost forming the word he should say, but won't, he tells him to continue.

Harder and faster. That's what Erik wants to hear, and he's tempted to shout it. Grunt it. Give Erik everything he wants and more.

It's not like he hasn't done that before. Listened to the other's mind, and just gone along with any whim. But usually he wasn't in the receiving end. Or with a man. Or with a man he respected, and would be very upset if he found out there was a lack of definite honesty in this act.

So he tells him that it hurts, even though he could live through it silently, and to stop when things get a little too uncomfortable. Like when Erik's face gets a little too close to his, and he's overwhelmed with the feeling that there friendship is over. He can see that a scar runs through one of his eyebrows and the hairs just never grew back in. Now that he knows that, Charles feels that they are no longer friends. Something much more interesting than that. But still it hurts.

If it hurts Erik, he doesn't show it.

He should say sorry. But he won't.

* * *

><p>"Sex is weird." Raven says, and dips her spoon into the pint of ice cream. "I don't understand why all The Beatles songs are about it."<p>

Charles would wince, maybe tell her that talking about sex is inappropriate beyond believe with your elder brother, but he holds himself back. It's his fault after all. Instead he pulls and tightens his robe around himself and puts his toothbrush onto the counter, and steps out into their apartments living room. "Thought they were all about drugs."

"I can promise you that they are all about sex." She looks really small, and is completely blue pressed into the cushions of the couch cradling the ice cream like a small child. "I know, at least I do now."

It hurts, and he can feel her hurt, and it hurts him even more. "I'm so sorry, Raven."

He could of warned her, could of read the motives of the man walking away with her, could of thought twice about letting his gorgeous sister run around with coeds, at least before telling her. Telling her that not every man is like himself. Like Charles.

He puts his arms around her, and she waits a second before letting herself press into his his chest. And it feels warm. "Yeah, sex is weird."

* * *

><p>"If you could be anybody in the entire world, alive or dead, who would it be?"<p>

Erik doesn't know. He tells Charles that. "And do not appreciate these silly car games."

"It's just a way to pass time." Sex had changed a lot of things, but not this. "Come on. All the kids think you'd make a lovely James Bond."

"He's not dead or alive. Not even real." But they did sit closer than before. The CIA guy, whose name only Charles knew, keeps eyeing the in the mirror, leaving Erik a bit nervous. "How bout you than, Professor?"

"Hm. It would have to be Jackie Q."

Erik cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just look at her." Charles laughed at Erik's rolling eyes. "Your turn to come up with a question."

What Erik really wanted to ask, was why Charles was so terribly earnest all the time, but what came out was, "Are you a face man or an ass man?"

"Assman," said the nameless CIA guy. "And I thought you guys were some of those homosexuals."

Instead of getting mad, Charles laughs. "A face man. All the way."

It bothers Erik. Way more than he ever thought an offhanded gay comment would a week ago. Wasn't Charles the one who was suppose to stand up for all genetic variations, even the ones that are sort of illegal? This was strange. He wasn't sure what to do or say. Soon his face started feeling hot, and now he's more angry that Charles isn't.

_Calm you mind, Erik._

He can't calm his mind. And he isn't sorry.

* * *

><p><strong>End.<strong>

I had a lot more for this, but really wanted to go boating instead. Sorry.

Don't have a beta. So if you catch some real fucked up shit feel free to yell at me. Didn't think this would work out, but I really like it

Please, review. And I'll have the next out soon.


	3. Natural Selection

**Thanks for the feedback. Have fun reading.**

* * *

><p>Natural Selection<p>

Nature does not favor the color blue. Especially in people. Erik can deduct that, and he is not some fancy geneticist, nor has any sort of official schooling. Being a hue of blue has not done too many favors for neither Raven, or the Beast.

"Not all genetic mutations, or adaptions, are beneficial." Charles tries to explain to Erik.

But Erik knows nature to be perfect, only man carries imperfection. A perfect nature does not cause an imperfect condition in man.

"Nature is far from perfect." Charles smiles. "If it was so, I wouldn't have a job."

* * *

><p>"Why didn't you say anything?"<p>

"Wha?" The piece of french toast ruined the possibility for any intelligent speech. If Erik wasn't so mad he'd be enjoying the idea of the refined Charles eating probably two day old food at a dinner that was crawling illegals and roaches.

"CIA guy." Who was doing some sort of surveillance update over the pay phone outside.

"Oh." Taking the napkin from his lap, he wiped the syrup that was dripping from his chin. "Didn't think it was important."

Something about the piss taste left from the coffee made it impossible for the subject to be dropped. The men may be close, but Erik understood that fucking wasn't the same as loving, or has having the permission to pester. "Though you were the defender of all. Protector of the small. Guardian angel of the weak. All around, St. Empathy."

"Please do go on." Charles was on his fourth cup of piss coffee. "The man was already on the skittish side already. Self preservation I suppose." He pointed to the yellowing skin around his eye.

"I didn't think you'd have it in you." Maybe this was a good thing. There was hope Charles wouldn't be on somebodies cross anytime soon. "If it came to that, we could of taken him. I could of."

"Couldn't have that. Don't want to start something with the CIA. Never goes good for them in the movies." His face suddenly became grim. "I would of had to stop it. And honestly, I couldn't take you in any condition."

"That's not what happened last night." Charles smiled, his teeth yellow from the coffee.

* * *

><p>"Are you scared of me?" They both had scotch in hand, and less layers than usual. The linen was cool, so was the air, and it was smooth and effortless. And blue eyes, and accents, and without any trace of fear, he said "definitely," and he was thrilled.<p>

* * *

><p>And unlike Erik, Raven thinks Charles' black eye is hilarious. It's one of those things that become more ravishingly hilarious, and her laughter comes out in barks whenever she sees that pathetically, droopy thing. It's especially funny when he winces under bright light. What morning.<p>

"It's not funny." He covers his eye with a bag of frozen peas. It's the most physical pain he's endured since a child, leaving a scowl on his face that cause his checks to ache. "You're going to have to eat these now that they're defrosted."

"You eat them."

"You know I can't stand frozen food." A piece of sharp ice scratched at Charles cheek. He smashed it against the counter, in a surprisingly violent manner than returned it to his sore eye. "There."

"Spoiled prat."

"No denying that." And that smile looks a bit sad.

"What happened?" Though everybody wants to, nobodies really asks, they already know who. Hearing Erik won't make it better, or tell them why.

Charles doesn't sigh, nor does he drop his smile. "Confidential."

"I see." And drops it.

Everyone knows that Erik's fucked up. Real loopy. It's a balancing act just having him around. A bomb just waiting to be tripped. Charles thinks if they all keep perfectly still, it will never go off. But Raven has a suspicion that Erik's not a bomb at all, more like a supernova. Inevitable, and around the corner.

"Thanks."

She sees and she drops it, but nothing is really settled. "Yeah." And she doesn't want to look anymore, at the man thats trying to stop a supernova.

Raven is leaving the kitchen, brushing shoulders with a man who smelt like he really needed a shower. Either his stink, or the fact that it's Erik makes her grab the front of his sweat soaked shirt. The black eye is no longer funny. "Don't touch him again."

It slipped for a second. Yellow eyes, and graying blue skin was the anchor to her threat. The hand sent to a mob victim telling them shit was about to get real serious real soon. "I'm not kidding. And I'm much stronger than I generally lead on."

Of course, she stood no chance against a man who had a more colorful kill record than James Bond, and not to mention, could control the very thing the human population stood upon. Still Charles is her brother, and the black eye may be situationally funny for a few moments, and Eric may be undeniable sexy and just a real curiosity, but brother is brother.

She turns back to wave at Charles whose looking a little shell shocked, "Got a play date with Hank, something to do with blood and experiments and hopefully nudity but you know Hank. Apparently he doesn't realize it's the sexiest time to be alive. See you on the flip side."

* * *

><p>Charles knows that Erik is bad for him. He is definitely good for Erik. His pain is gain for Erik. The more pain Charles experienced, the more Erik became apart of humanity.<p>

"How can you be so sure that nature is not perfect?" Erik keeps pressing. It's the closest to a theological discussion they have ever happened upon. If something that Charles is finding easy to indulge. When he was an undergraduate, and thought getting a liberal arts degree meant becoming cultured, he had participated in those a lot. Answering with a question would be too easy. "Mutation wouldn't exist. Or evolution. And being so intimate with the subject matter, you can't debate me on that."

"But what if it was all planned that way? Not a random imperfection. A planned imperfect nature."

"By God?"

"Yes, if it must be called that."

Charles sat back on his chair. "I just can't believe that."

"Me neither. Not now, anyway." Feeling a little nauseous, Charles wanted to say he did believe just for Erik. Go against his nature, just please his selection. And in that way Erik was so very bad for him. "Maybe one day."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry, this one is a lot shorter. Just felt finished. Keep reading, and reviewing. I'd like that a lot. Also, post a suggestion for more chapters themes. I'll probably use them. Thanks. xD<strong>


	4. Noir

**Thanks, MirrorFlower and DarkWind for all your encouragement over reviews on all my X-Men fanfics. Your a doll.**

**Please keep reading, and reviewing. I like, everyone else, without shame could live on them. **

**Oh, and the one first-person piece in here is Alex btw. **

Noir

It all started with a murder. And it all ended hopelessly. A victim of circumstance, he's life is set against dark backgrounds and cast with morally bankrupt associates. Everything thing in Erik's life was set up for him, and everything went as planned. The great creator of all, the director, the coordinator, the motherfucker with the microscope, made him into the little boy who could bend metal fences but still couldn't tie his shoe lace, a turtlenecked hunter, and finally into the caped revolutionary.

"Let's go find some fresh air, my boy." Charles would try to end the spiral to melodrama in that short time when peace was an option, and so was hunting for fresh air. "It's always depressing to stuck in this house all day."

Depressing was something that he would deal with. Actually, in hindsight, Erik understood that he would of never handled complete freedom to enjoy peace or happiness. Too many choices, when you don't have an overwhelming and ever presence goal to complete. Choices that could take to you many different places, with many different outcomes, when Erik only wanted the possibility of two. Win or die.

They walked through the garden a handful of times in that strange moment of stillness. Never holding hands. The kiss and the punch that had followed, taught Erik there intimate limits. Brushing each other's hand was an established okay.

"As, I was saying lovely day." And unlike when they played chess, and discussed heavy topics and past events and upcoming miseries, the garden was reserved for talk of the weather and of the crazy new flavors of soda pop how much Erik enjoyed baked goods.

* * *

><p>It started with a crime.<p>

He had stolen an egg. Had gotten away with as well, until he had placed it on the wooden slab his mother used for cutting roots of the potatoes. "Look, mama."

She turned away form her scavenging, wiping her hands with her apron. "What do you have there, Max?"

"Something special for dinner." He was so very proud. Now a man for taking care of his family. Max was put off though when his mother shook her head, and mad the tutting noise of disapproval. "Where'd you get that?"

Five year olds did not carry money, and people did not give away food. It was a fact of Poland. "A man gave it to me."

Picking it up, and cradling it in her hand as something precious, "No stealing, Erik. Not only God is watching, but we do not take what oughta be given."

They egg never did see home again though. It was hardboiled, and cut into three, served for dinner.

* * *

><p>"Professor, about that eye?"<p>

"Rather dashing isn't it? Brings out the the color to my cheeks, and really fits the role of an adventurer that I've taken to lately. Like Lawrence of Arabia, or a romantic cowboy looking for some Aztec gold." That's just how it went when you asked Charles about his eye. Not exactly the same way my mom would answer, but pretty close. The same point at least. To avoid the truth.

Charles ain't no woman though. My mom needed help, but never asked. I hate her a little for that, ya know? Instead of confronting my dad or calling those feminist social workers, she ran off. I have a feeling woman just do that, and I hope not men. Because I really want Charles to stick around, after pretty much promising he would.

I, unlike, Sean who gives up too easy and pretends that its probably no biggie, and unlike Hank, who is sure that Charles is some sort of unreachable god, I keep pressing though. Asking Raven was no help though. Shrugged me off, and told me it was none of our business. Which means she already knows. Noway she's act that nonchalant about her dear brother.

"It's nothing Alex. Just got into a little scuffle at a gentleman's club." It's laughable, really. Our pussyfooted boss getting into a barfight. What would it be over, some sort of 'my theory of evolution is better, and much larger than yours' argument gone violent. At this point, I'm sure it was this Erik fellow who hit him. A real Nazi Hunter, like the kind you read in those rags that always have articles about alien landings, and that JFK is really a lizard man, always decked out in a turtleneck seems like culprit to flipout on our candyass leader. Confronting him seems like a great idea, right? "Was it Erik?"

Now I hadn't expected a start answer, so when he just said yes I was a little thrown. "You better of hit him back."

"Would it make you feel better if I did?"

I really wish my mom had hit my dad at least once. Beating on her like that, he should of got a little of it, ya know? Payback, or vengeance, or some sort of punishment. Not just TV dinners with cold mashed potatoes and gamey turkey for the rest of his life now that she was gone. "Yes."

* * *

><p>It started with a crime.<p>

A crime against decency. "Is this really alright?"

The hair that grew sparsely on Erik's stomach was scratching at a kneeling Charles cheeks as he tried to leave a few kisses. Both found being with a man was different and more awkward than being with a woman, even when it felt right. There wasn't set roles to fall back on. Too much intimacy seemed emasculating, while not enough was cowardly like giving into human norms of sexuality. "I believe it is more than right."

It's not like Charles likes giving blowjobs, but he certainly loved receiving them. And that seemed like a right enough reason for him. But Erik needed more that just right, he needed truth. That they were doing wasn't against nature, and that sex was different than love, but maybe they can try both. So Charles stopped his advance, and places his hands around Erik's hips, and looked up at him. "I respect you, my friend. I do not find this indecent or immoral. And I hope you have it in you to still respect me after we are through, cause dear lord, I really need this. And so do you. Give me the okay when your ready."

All sort of things went through Erik's mind in that moment. Like what would his mother think, or could he let his closest friend that much closer, and that things will be different and change can be a bad thing, and that being a homosexual was going to be just as serious as being a mutant. But also, other things seemed to become important as well, like why the hell do you suddenly care about what society thinks? And look at this man on his knee, practically begging to suck you off, and saying no would be insane, and he would no longer be allowed to call himself a man. Most importantly, it was Charles. "Go ahead."

His pants were down to his ankles, and his cock was in Charles hands. Instantly, he knew he would regret this. It was now another thing out of his control, and he was just along for the melodrama.

* * *

><p>It ended with a crime.<p>

A crime against nature, against humanity, against love, and mostly against himself. But he does not know that yet. And in this crime, Erik realizes he's not just a victim of circumstance, and that he does have some control. Just the timing of it all was off, and if he had know this before maybe things would of been a bit different.

But probably not.

* * *

><p><strong>I said the word cock, now I have to up the rating. Or at least I think that's how it works. Please keep on reading. And suggestions for chapter themes are welcomed. I'd use them. <strong>


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